


Bamboo Flower

by Pegaltan



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Birth Control, F/M, Family Planning, Implied Mpreg, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegaltan/pseuds/Pegaltan
Summary: Rin wants to knock Obito up.





	Bamboo Flower

Obito is fresh off from an assignment when Rin finds him sitting on the veranda. He is in non-descript civilian clothing and is trying to become one with the couch. He is distracted, which is when Rin decides to pounce.

Sensors, as a rule, are hard to sneak up on. Obito is one of the better ones. He could probably pinpoint the Raikage’s position on a map if ordered to. He barely bats an eye when she lands on his lap, _bastard_, and holds his hands up to steady her like she’s a genin one month into graduation.

“Obito, welcome back!”

Rin has the advantage of being an entire day ahead, scrubbed clean and smelling of whatever generic brand that was on sale. She pulls him forward and smothers him between her tits. But instead of being appreciative, Obito wiggles and whines.

“Riiiiiiiin, let me up.”

“Men are such babies.” Rin pouts and lets him go. She stares down at him, looks deep into his eyes and closes her teeth around the bridge of his nose, scraping the trace of salt, sweat and ash from his skin.

“Trouble?”

Obito waves her off.

“Just a standard mission.”

“Hmm.”

He fidgets, avoiding her gaze.

“A Shimo clan had one of its heirs go missing overnight. I was contracted to take her out.”

A clan with a spare. Clan business was messy.

“Were you hurt?” She asks eventually.

“No.” He shakes his head and gives her a crooked smile. “You know me. I just. She, she had a lot more people with her than I thought she would. They went down hard. I think they really loved her.”

Love isn’t the worst emotion to be inspired by. She lets out a sigh before slumping forward, letting her entire weight rest on top of him. His arms come up automatically and circle her shoulders. He breathes into her hair, rubs his face against the chestnut strands.

“Hey,” She says. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too sweetheart.”

Obito’s hands are warm. He’s gotten better at controlling his chakra absorption techniques but he tends to put his guard down around her. His hands, diffused with chakra, are warm. Their heat can be felt through the weave of her oversized shirt and her tired muscles.

She feels energized.

“Let’s have sex.”

“Rin, you’ll scandalize the neighbors.” Obito says, amusement dripping from his words.

“But what do they know?” She wheedles. “We may be practicing ultra-secret-_sexy_-jutsu out here.”

“Just how much of Jiraiya’s shitty novels have you been reading while I was gone?”

None. Her imagination is much better. But she isn’t about to admit to that.

“His writing has gotten better.” She insists. And it has. Maybe.

“Well, I know you.” Obito says seriously, bouncing her a little. “You won’t make love to me on anything less than a thousand-count sheets.”

“Make love.” She teases.

“Have sex.” Obito says stubbornly.

Rin pretends to think.

“Oh I don’t know. There was that one time in the Hokage’s office...”

He interrupts her with a kiss.

“You promised you would never speak of that again.”

“Not even for a revisit?”

“We revisited three times!”

Rin bursts out laughing.

Obito groans when he realizes probably _Suna_ knows they’ve had sex in the Hokage’s office. She is looking forward to the talk with Minato. Their sensei is oddly hesitant on _handling_ her. A gross oversight for a Hokage, she thinks. An exploitable weakness. She should let him know that the lock on the second window is broken.

“I want it on record that I agreed to this under duress.” Obito says finally, stretching out with Rin balanced on top of him.

“Noted.” She purrs. “I will be sure to let the Hokage know.”

Before he can protest, she slips a hand beneath his waistband and pretends to look. Obito hisses, “_Rin!_” before she grabs hold of his length. He settles down with a few tugs, mouth parted in awe. He might as well be putty in her hands.

Their apartment is five stories up. Though shinobi like to use rooftops as alternate mode of transportation, they are hidden from plain sight. But the _possibility_ of being seen puts color in her cheeks, her neck and her breasts. She slaps Obito’s hands away when they grab her at the waist. She unbuttons her shorts and kicks them off. And as he hurriedly pulls his pants down, she hooks a thumb in her panties and pulls them aside.

He slips right in.

She’s watching his face. Seeing little spasm of cheek and the flutter of eyelashes. His pupils are pinpricks inside the black corona. She loves his eyes. They remind her of a moon-dark night when the only things she can make out are stars. She sees the way he turns heads on the street. Catch attention of every has-been who used to sneer at him when they were children.

Rin watches as he blushes from the tip of his nose and down. His cheeks spark neon and his face is a glorious pink. She drops an open mouthed kiss in his mouth and blows air in their cheeks before they break apart giggling.

She pulls him forward again and licks inside his mouth. His infatuation was adorable when he was young. Now it is reassuring. He is hers.

“I want to knock you up.” She blurts out.

“Wait, what?”

She repeats, “I want to knock you up.”

Obito panics.

“But I’m a guy Rin. How am I supposed to get pregnant? And you...! How are you going to, you know...”

He squeaks when she intentionally flexes her inner walls, squeezing his length.

“There are fertility potions. It would just take once. Just once Obito. We could invite someone over, feed him, set the mood then...”

“And you’re just going to watch?” Obito asks, moving slowly.

“Ah, there. Don’t be silly. I’m going to direct. No one is touching my man without my permission. You’re going to take that fertility potion, you... oh I want you to lie back and think of me.”

“While this mystery man is fucking me.”

“While the mystery man is fucking you.” She confirms.

“And it if it doesn’t take the first time?”

“Then he does it over and over and over again.”

“Hhnngg,” He groans. “Won’t work. Have you ever seen a pregnant Uchiha? Parents dig us from dirt, fully formed.”

Rin bursts out laughing.

“You are definitely too coherent. But you would look _so_ good—I can picture it.”

“Well when you put it like that.” Obito says in a rare burst of sarcasm. She tuts.

“Don’t interrupt. I know you’ve been watching Kakashi.”

“But see,” Obito reasons. “Being attracted to Kakashi isn’t weird. It’s practically a village past time. You watch with me!”

“I’ve nursed an unrequited crushed on him since I was thirteen.” She says loftily. “And wouldn’t Sakumo-san appreciate a Hatake baby?”

“You make it sound as though it’s an option.” He grumbles. “Why can’t you do it?”

“I don’t have the equipment.”

“And I do.”

“Shush.” She pinches his cheeks. “Kakashi would do you if you asked. He’d fuck you for hours—Anbu are supposed to have endurance right?”

“You’d let Kakashi fuck me?” His hips stutter. She feels the drag of his cock between her inner thighs and clamps down, holding him in her.

“His babies would be gorgeous.”

“His babies would be the rudest shits ever.” Obito disagrees.

“Nine months.” Rin outlines, “I am going to take such good care of you. No more missions, no more assassinations. Just a nice desk job.”

She rubs her hands on top of his six-pack over and over as though she could smooth them away.”

“No one thinks muffin tops are attractive.” He huffs.

“I’m buying you new clothes. A tsukesage. You’ll be a regular yamato nadeshiko. And you’ll be all _mine_.”

Rin corkscrews her hips down until his tip rests snug against the entrance of her womb. He arches his back, hands tearing into the cushions, helpless in pleasure. The greatest of their generation is reduced to a quivering mess because of her.

Suddenly, she wants his hands on her. Pushing a flat palm on his chest, she takes his right hand first, calloused and corded from shurikenjutsu, and places it on top of her breast, coaxes him to squeeze and roll the nipple between his thumb and fingers.

He is soft. Obito has always been soft. He kneads her flesh hesitantly, gropes past her pink nipple and cups her left breast, his thumb falling somewhere between, as they both jerk and gasp to a rhythm as old as time.

Slowly, his left hand comes up. It is a scholar’s hand, a maiden’s hand, a virgins’ hand, because the flesh around the finger bones are deceptively soft. If his right hand is the hammer of the Fire Daimyo, the fury of Hokage’s will, his left hand is the diplomat. An orchid in a hot house. One he uses to pen letters and practice calligraphy in flowing ink. Obito rests his left hand on her lower belly almost as though he can feel himself through her skin.

Her toes curl at the thought. She pushes her pelvis forward, milking his length. She is getting close. She can tell he is too.

She leans down and the instinctive squeeze of his right palm is almost painful. She lets out a genuine grunt, stars bursting in front of her eyes as she lifts her hips and slams them back down to wipe the guilty look on his face. She reaches down. He catches her before she can tip over. Obito will always catch her.

“Rin.” He gasps when her fingers squeeze below where they are connected and slide to his ball sack before circling his pucker. She sinks her fingers in to the first knuckle and holds them there. A steady pressure at his entrance.

“Nnggh.” He moans. She isn’t able to decipher the noise. It is surprise mostly. He lifts his knees, pressing them against her spine. Maybe he even like it.

It’s not exact science. Obito has been known to hide things from her. But he can’t lie to her.

“Do you like it?” She demands. “Do you like having my fingers inside you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t dislike it.” She files the fact away for future reference.

“We’ll try it again later.”

“Later?”

“Yes.” She says, picking up the pace. His hand is spasming against her right breast. Kneading. On the edge of painful but not quite. Arousing still because she can feel the tendrils of chakra diffusing through her skin.

“Obito.” She has a mind enough to protest. Obito is fresh off a mission. He shouldn’t waste precious chakra during play.

“I know, I know.” And with a gulp of air, Obito slides his right hand down, almost as though he is about to flip her over and really give it to her. Her thighs bunch with anticipation, closing around his waist. But instead, he wraps his palms around his cock and squeezes his fingers inside of her.

She lets out a squeak, back curving towards him.

And when she does, he has a thumb on her clit. The little pulses of chakra feel even better than they had on her tits.

“Oh, _oh_.”

They haven’t done this before. Obito has a special ability. He has the ability to strip chakra from a source and put it somewhere else. It’s saved their asses numerous times. Whether it be for half-assed escape plans or chakra depletion. But she’s never had it inside of her, throbbing like a second heartbeat next to Obito’s own.

It feels like she’s riding lightning and she tosses her head back, even as he begins to bounce her on top of him.

A few minutes later, she’s coming. She comes and she blacks out. It’s like hanging upside down for hours before letting gravity hold her feet. Feeling the blood rush back into her brain and oxygen into her lungs. A kind of euphoria that hits hard and leaves her blind.

“Yeah, yeah, come on.” Obito encourages, looking like he’s run miles across the Land of Fire.

Rin comes and comes and he hugs her to his chest, letting her ride it out. “Love you.” He whispers into her ear. She doesn’t remember if she says it back.

Afterwards, she lazes on the veranda while Obito gets up to clean them up. He lifts her in his arms and she whines, curling like a kitten towards sunlight. He dumps her on a kitchen chair and pours her tea.

“Do we need to talk about this?”

“About what?” She says, still dazed from having _chakra_ transfused to her nether regions.

“Children.” She raises her head and he says patiently, “He’d probably agree you know. Kakashi. If you really wanted Hatake babies.”

“Hey.” She gently takes his hand and squeezes. “The only kids I want are yours. But I don’t think either of us are ready for kids really. It was a thought. A fantasy. I don’t mind not having kids either.”

“But you know.” Obito looks away.

Yes, Rin knows about his vasectomy and the resulting fallout from his clan. “It is reversible.”

He shakes his head.

“You know about my bloodline limit and... you know about my family.”

“I’m your family.” Rin says firmly. “Kakashi is your family. Sakumo-san is your family.”

“I just... just want you to be happy.” Obito admits, looking _unhappy_. Guilty even.

She surges forward. Obito catches her tumbling cup with a yelp and straightens it before it tips over and gives him second-degree burns. She kisses him hard. One hand on his cheek to guide him. To remind him where he is, who he is and whom he is with.

Many, many, many, many years ago, back when they were infants starting out at the Academy, Obito had been the only clanborn student to speak to her, to speak to any of the gaggle of civilian candidates selected for genin corps. And when she’d seen that boy, that kind-hearted boy, her best friend, abused by his guardian, she swore that she would protect him, she would take care of him and she would love him more than anyone.

She flushes at the memory of the exact words spoken out loud at the dinner table but holds firm. She untangles her hand from Obito’s and holds his face, making sure he can’t get away, making sure he’s staring at her.

“I’m happy. Trust me to know how to be happy. And I would be happier if my husband could tell me honestly what makes him happy.”

“I’m happy if you’re happy.” And this time, his smile was genuine, almost helpless in its joy.

She drops kisses on his eyelids, the tip of his nose and mouth.

Again and again. The tea is forgotten.

He is hers.


End file.
